emaciated; To make or become extremely thin, especially as a result of starvation.
heart.

if you tried to put out all the lights you'd just have to live in more shadows. i want you to want me too. says:
love is a dangerous angel

-agtprvcatr-- emaciated heart. says:
but this angel did not have wings.

emaciated
heart.

You refused to feed. Skeletal, cadaverous bag of blood. Without the bones - rotting bones for support. It died. The corpse of a young fresh child. The carton of milk out your fridge. Past expiry dates and orbituaries. I was your pet, your caged animal. I'm starving. So please feed me earth now.

She climbed the beanstalk pole. Up. Cheeks sunken and sallow. Hands haggard and bony around the juicy leafy mass. She was famished, her lips crisp and dry. Of shrivelled weather-beatened harvests. Kiss, kiss, kiss and tell. Life-sucking, blood breathing creatures - that were beautiful. So that she went back, walked backward into them, again. Casting her bare, almost-there shadows on desolate ground. Ground that will eat her, or grab her size six feet, and refuse to release her. Her palms were sweat shined and rosy, they rode up, dragging her limp frame up, dousing herself in sunshine. Sunshine-heat that fried her, she couldn't remember. The beams seemed to darken her path and she was released into a state of unconciousness; but her hands kept moving.

She was told of the svelte, lanky, sinewy, fragile girl; with flowing hair framing her petite body. She could almost break. Her stupid kid anorexic, or maybe bulimic - she thought that maybe, just maybe, she could regurgitate all the pain inflicted on her, in her. The slightest force left her skin bruised. The screaming made her head ache. She wasn't alone like your angsty psuedo goth child. She was alone.

Until she let Him own her.

Him, he didn't breathe blood, or suck life. Him, who cut her open to feast on flesh - raw and fresh and innocent. Him, who made her age. Him, who destroyed her. She was once all there, or she thought she was with Him around. In love, in love, in love and death. He blessed her with the power to climb, to escape, to be free. Then it stopped. She strained to open her eyes, to see - but her eyelids were heavy, they begged to be shut. Her body was heavy, burning with perspiration. She was nearly past dehydration. Past death.

He loved me. He loved me. He couldn't protect me. Stop running away. Go back. Go back. Go back to Him.

Her wrinkled and pale hands let go, lost grasp. So that the wearied body flew back on the earth and the emaciated heart could not feel the pain.

NOTE
My first prose piece ever. I hope you didn't get too confused by the lack of names for the characters. That was done on purpose. (: I know some people think using too many descriptive words, 'hard' words rather, is pretentious. I think not. If you don't understand anything, just check a dictionary and learn.

ACKNLDGMNTS
- Francesca Lia Block told us that "Love is a dangerous angel" and we believe her.
- Sarah read this first and we love her.
- Her, for her story and Him for being part of Her story.
- Drawing block and a pen.